


Run Cried the Crawling

by StrawberryWhorecake



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Dark, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, NSFW, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4392053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryWhorecake/pseuds/StrawberryWhorecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Archdemon is defeated and Gwendolyn Cousland is heartbroken. Alistair is king and she is no longer a part of his life. She welcomes being Warden Commander at Vigil's Keep. Anything to take her mind off the love that she lost. She never expected her heart to heal, She never thought to find love again. NSFW in future chapters, also sap. Lots of sap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Gwendolyn Cousland tried hard to keep her face expressionless as she heard the words.

"Then it is decided" Arl Eamon called out before the landsmeet. "Alistair shall be king."

Gwendolyn did not hear what came after that. She did not hear the plans, the arguing. She never noticed Anora being sent to the tower. The voices around her melded together, echoing the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

_He is no longer mine._

It made her stomach turn. Why didn't she stop these feelings when she could? She should have squashed the initial feelings of tenderness as they popped up. If she had been smarter than she wouldn't feel as though she were dying now.

Her mind came back to reality and Gwendolyn glanced up. Alistair was looking at her. A strange mix of emotions shone in his expression. She did her best to give him a half smile. He was king. Now Alistair had a country to run and a Blight to defeat. The petty problems of her broken heart were no longer on his agenda.

Eamon spoke and Alistair broke their gaze. He nodded to the arl. His expression turned grave.

"First, we defeat the Archdemon." He spoke sternly. "We need to ready our troops for the battle tomorrow."

"Yes, my king." A voice said. Gwendolyn could not take it anymore.

"There's something I have to take care of before tomorrow." She said to no one in particular. Without waiting for a response she turned and left the hall.

It was not long before she heard his footsteps behind her. She turned and he stopped abruptly. It felt like an eternity before he spoke.

"Gwen…I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She said quietly. He took a tentative step toward her. Gwendolyn crossed her arms across her chest and avoided his stare.

"You know I don't have a choice." He said. "Ferelden needs a king and I will need an heir. Two Grey Wardens…"

"Enough!" She cried raising her hands. She met his forlorn gaze but was unable to keep the tears at bay. He pulled her roughly in his arms pressing their bodies together tightly.

"I love you." He said. "Nothing will ever change that."

She sobbed in his arms. She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't allow herself to believe him any longer. He would forget her, he would move on. He would find solace in another woman's arms. A woman who could give him the heir he needed. And Gwendolyn would be left alone. She would die alone, her only companion would be the gut retching nightmares that kept her awake at night.

"We have to end it now." He said quietly in her ear. "Or else I will never be able to tear myself away from you."

He began to pull away but she held fast.

"Not yet." She whispered. "Just moment longer."

She would lose him, but not yet, she would have one last embrace.


	2. And a Hard Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N. The rest of the story will not follow Awakenings as closely as this chapter does. I simply felt that these events are relevant to what happens later.)

_Six months later_

She could see Vigil's Keep in the distance. It rose out of the blue haze like giant looming over its victims. Gwendolyn sighed with relief. The journey had been too long and she tired of sleeping on the ground.

As she stared at the keep in the horizon she reflected on how far she had come. She had not expected to live beyond the battle with the Archdemon, and at the time she had not wanted to. But now she approached a keep and city that were now her responsibility. It seemed unreal, like a dream.

The last few months had gone by slowly for her. Alistair had invited her to stay at the castle in Denerim, but she refused. She could not stay so close to him, not while she still loved him. Eamon had foisted some bann's young daughter on him. She was a frivolous, silly girl and far too beautiful for Gwendolyn's liking. She attended the wedding, as a Cousland it was expected of her. That was the day she became dead inside, It was the only way she could cope. In that moment she longed for Morrigan to be at her side, to tell her how stupid Alistair was and how she was better off. She longed for Zevran to make her laugh, or even Leliana to show her sympathy. But they had all gone their separate ways after the battle and Gwendolyn was alone, save for her brother Fergus, who was too deep in his own grief to notice hers.

So for six months she stayed in Highever with Fergus, helping him rebuild the lost army and repair the keep. For several weeks Fergus did nothing but drink in the tombs near the graves of his wife and son. He refused to eat or even to bathe. Gwendolyn would have to get the guards to help her drag him out and toss him in the brook to get the stench off him.

One evening she sat beside him, he passed her the tankard wordlessly and she took a swig of ale.

"I didn't believe the stories when I first heard them." He said quietly. "I never thought Howe could murder our family. He and father were friends. They fought beside each other. I…I don't understand."

"And we never will." Gwendolyn said. "There is no point trying to understand what lies in a man's heart. He's dead and we have to move on."

Fergus clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white with rage.

"I wish I had been there." He said. "When you gave him that blow. I wish I had been beside you."

Gwendolyn remembered well when the man responsible for her family's death crumbled at her feet, his last words reeking of venom.

"It didn't help." She said quietly. "But I wouldn't change my decision if I had the chance. More would have died by his hand if I had not and he would have never let us live."

Fergus said nothing. They sat together in silence for some time before Gwendolyn spoke again.

"You can't do this anymore." She said. "I miss them too, but you have to go on."

"Gwen, I…" He began

"No." she said abrubtly. "If you had died and Oriana had lived, what would you want her to do?"

Fergus looked at her wordlessly. Dark circles marred under his bloodshot eyes. His face was dark and hollow. Gwendolyn continued.

"They don't want this of you. You're not living. You can't spend the rest of your days staring at their tombs, thinking about what could have been. The people of this city depend on you. Mother and Father depend on you to carry on the Cousland name."

Fergus did not respond, nor did he say anything the rest of the evening. Gwendolyn left him there. She did not see him over the next few days, she assumed that he still sat in the crypts. She would not chase him any longer, not try to pull him out of his grief and into the world. She was surprised when she saw him at breakfast one morning, energetically discussing repairs with the stonemason.

"Good morning, dear sister." He greeted her jovially. "I can't stay though, I have to discuss recruiting new soldiers with the captain of the guard. I'll see you at supper."

He tousled her hair as he left the hall. For the first time in weeks Gwendolyn found herself smiling.

Fergus' mood seemed to improve even more over time. He sparred with her in the courtyard, jested and drank with the men. Gwendolyn even caught him staring at the rounded behind of a maid. She elbowed him and he laughed. But when he overheard the laughing of the cook's son his melancholy reared its head. But to Gwendolyn's relief it didn't stay long.

She was happy at her childhood home. She could usually find something to keep her mind off Alistair, to keep herself from wondering what he was doing, if he thought of her, or if his young, pretty queen kept his thoughts busy. During the day she would practice with the new recruits in the courtyard, play games with the new servant's children, help Fergus plan repairs for the castle. But at night she was on her own. Her treacherous mind plagued her with thoughts of the man she loved, his kiss, his tender words, the inexperienced yet endearing way he made love. Her pillow would be soaked in tears before she fell asleep and often she would awake in a cold sweat after horrid dreams of darkspawn and dragons.

She considered the letter she received a blessing. She had been offered the position of Warden Commander of Ferelden. The Grey Wardens had been given Howe's former estate in Amaranthine. The darkspawn had not ceased in their attacks, and the Grey Wardens were needed. She did not hesitate to accept, it would be far better than wasting away in Highever. A few months later she bid Fergus farewell and set off for Vigil's Keep.

Now it was here, growing larger with every step. The empty fields gave way to farmsteads and small huts. The smell of hay and horses filled her nostrils. Clouds stretched across the sky, blocking the sun's harsh glare from her eyes. Gwendolyn picked up her pace as she adjusted the pack on her back, eager to reach the comfort of the keep.

"Warden Commander!" A voice cried out. A soldier ran towards her.

"Warden Commander!" She repeated as she grew closer, She stopped and struggled to catch her breath. "The seneschal sent me to escort you to the keep." She said in quick pants.

"Very well," Gwendolyn said annoyed. She had come leagues on her own, but they did not trust her to make it the last few miles alone? "How much further is it?"

"Only about a few hours walk, though we should hurry, I think a storm is coming."

Gwendolyn glanced upward at the darkening clouds. The girl was probably right.

"Then we should probably go."

"Yes, Warden Commander."

The soldier didn't speak on their walk to the keep, a blessing to Gwendolyn who was too exhausted to make polite conversation.

Hours passed drudgingly as they marched along the road. Gwendolyn prayed that they could avoid the rain, they had reached the stables of the keep when the sky opened up and a barrage of rain pelted them. Gwendolyn groaned and picked up her pace, but the soldier stopped.

"What is it?" Gwendolyn asked agitated.

"There should have been someone here." She said staring at the keep. Gwendolyn looked up. There was no one on the road, although it was raining they would have seen them coming and surely someone would come out to greet the new Warden Commander. Gwendolyn paused. There was something not right about this.

Then she heard the screams as a man fell onto the road, surrounded by darkspawn. Gwendolyn dropped her pack and reached for her sword and shield. The soldier unsheathed her weapons and together they launched themselves at the abominable creatures. She would never get used to how revolting they were. Their armor mismatched and torn from the bodies of their victims, their faces gnarled and disfigured, the noises that came from their mouths still haunted her nightmares.

The Genlock faced the man as he writhed on the ground. With a quick trust from Gwendolyn's longsword he fell over with a horrible cry. She turned as another came upon her, it raised high a battleaxe and brought it down. Gwendolyn blocked the blow with her shield, but the force of it sent pains through her arm and shoulder. It attempted to raise the heavy axe again, but Gwendolyn struck, her blade catching the tender flesh of the creature's neck.

The man stood as the soldier took down the last darkspawn.

"The Hero of Ferelden!" He cried as he caught sight of Gwendolyn. "Thank the Maker you're here!"

"What happened?" Gwendolyn demanded.

"They came out of nowhere! We had no time to prepare!"

Gwendolyn groaned. "Go." She said. "Find help."

The man left without another word.

"You." She said to the soldier. "What's your name?"

"Mhairi." She said. "Recruited a month ago, but haven't taken the joining."

Gwendolyn nodded. "I promise I will be more cordial after a rest and hot meal, but for now help me clear these bastards out."

"Yes, Commander." Mhairi nodded.

The keep was even larger on the inside. Gwendolyn couldn't help but admire it as she bathed the walls in darkspawn blood. They seemed to be everywhere. How had this occurred? How had the Grey Wardens not sensed them? Questions for another day, she thought as she beheaded another beast.

Gwendolyn followed shouts that led her down a narrow staircase. Bursts of flames shot from the hands of a mage as he incinerated the last of a group of darkspawn. Dead beasts and Templars surrounded him.

He turned and an uncertain look crossed over his face as Gwendolyn stared at the dead Templars.

"I…Uh.. didn't do it." He said. The absurdity of his statement almost caused her to laugh.

"Who are you?" Mhairi asked. "And what are you doing here?"

He smiled sardonically. "I am Anders. Wanted mage and apostate at your service. We were just on our way back to the circle when we stopped here for a rest. Then the darkspawn attacked. Pity."

Gwendolyn narrowed her eyes at him, then shook her head.

"Right now. I don't care who or what you are." She said. "Just help us kill these bastards. The rest can come later."

Anders nodded. The small party took off up the stairs.

Past the portcullis she could hear excited laughter followed by an explosion. Gwendolyn made her way into what she assumed was the dining hall. A band of darkspawn launched an attack on a lone dwarf, he held them off with his massive battle-axe, his red beard swaying with each strike.

"Ohgren!" Gwendolyn cried, never had she been so happy to see the drunk bastard. He waved before his axe severed a darkspawn head. Gwendolyn ran to his side, cutting the darkspawn where she could. Mhairi and Anders behind her fighting. When the room was shrouded in silence, Ohgren's voice boomed out.

"It's about time you showed up."

"What are you doing here?" Gwendolyn asked.

"Thought I might try my hand at becoming a Grey Warden." He said pushing out his chest.

Gwendolyn frowned. "You know about the risks, right?"

"Bah!" he shouted. "Piss on risk! Let's go. There are more darkspawn in sore need of a beheadin'"

Hours seemed to pass before the last darkspawn fell under Gwendolyn's blade. Out of breath, she leaned against a table. Her body ached; the pain in her shoulder was amplified with every step.

"We have find the seneschal!" Mhairi said frantically. Gwendolyn assumed he was dead, but did not voice these thoughts.

"I hear voices coming from the balcony!" Ohgren said as he leaned out of a nearby window. Gwendolyn stood and steeled herself.

"Let's go." She said. They ran up the stone steps to the large balcony that overlooked the keep. As soon as she stepped outside the hot rain pelted Gwendolyn's face. The darkspawn held a knife to a man's throat while another spoke to him.

"We are wanting no more death than is necessary." It said. Gwendolyn felt her blood freeze. A talking darkspawn? The thought of these creatures turning sapient made her stomach turn.

"A talking darkspawn." Anders said amazed.

"Well, let's shut it up." Ohgren shouted as he rushed forward with his axe. Gwendolyn and the others followed, their steel meeting with the darkspawn's.

Though it spoke like a human, it fell soon just like any other darkspawn. Gwendolyn sighed with relief. The darkspawn defeated, the man they held hostage rose up slowly.

"Thank you, commander." He said as he stood with a groan. "I owe you my life."

Gwendolyn nodded. Far too exhausted return the pleasantry.

"Forgive me." He said. "I am Seneschal Veral. I will be aiding you with running the keep."

"Thank you." Gwendolyn managed. "What happened here?"

"A sneak attack, commander. We didn't anticipate anything like this from the darkspawn. They seem to come from everywhere. We only had a moment's notice."

"Are there any wardens left?"

He looked away. "I saw many men fall today. Whether there are any other survivors remains to be seen."

The sound of clanking armor echoed behind them. Gwendolyn turned with her blade ready to shed more darkspawn blood, but the figures joining them in the rain were not darkspawn.

"That's him!" The Templar screamed. "That mage is a dangerous fugitive!"

Gwendolyn looked to Anders. He didn't seem so dangerous to her.

"What's he done?"

"Escaped from the tower and now he has murdered his captors."

"It wasn't me!" Anders cried exasperated. "It was the darksp- Oh, I give up. You won't believe me anyway. Fine. Take me back to your tower. I'll just escape again."

"Not this time." The Templar said. "This time it's a hanging for you."

Anders glared silently at the Templar. A thought occurred to Gwendolyn.

"I conscript Anders into the Grey Wardens."

The Templar gasped. Anders' eyes widened.

"You can't do that!" The Templar shouted.

"As Warden Commander I can conscript whomever I desire. And considering we lost a lot of good men today, I reckon we could use the manpower."

"Hmm." Anders muttered smiling. "A Grey Warden. I kind of like that idea."

The Templar fumed and Gwendolyn rolled her eyes.

"If there are no objections I would like to get out of the rain now." Gwendolyn said a bit more than annoyed. "Seneschal, I assume the Joining can wait until tomorrow?"

Varel nodded.

"Good. I would like to rest now. I had a long march followed by a darkspawn attack today. If there is not a chamber for me, I will gladly take a cot in the barracks."

"We do have a room prepared, Commander. I will show you to it, and I'll round up anyone I can find to burn the darkspawn bodies and prepare our own for the grave."

Gwendolyn nodded as Varel led her out of the rain and into the keep. She thanked the maker that the corridor he led her to was unspoiled by the darkspawn.

"That's your chamber, Commander." He said pointing to the wooden door. "Rest and tomorrow we will began rebuilding the Grey Wardens."

She nodded and walked into the room. It was large, but cold. The wall was lined with arched windows, raindrops reflected from torchlight slowly trickled down the panes. The large bed called to her. She propped her weapons by the door only after barring it shut. She groaned when she realized her pack was dropped on the road. She didn't care. Her body ached, her mind refused to work properly and the bed looked warm and inviting.

Gwendolyn stripped off her armor, dropping it on the floor; she then peeled the wet clothing off her skin. She shivered as the air hit her naked body and dove under the blankets. She sighed contentedly as she drifted off to sleep.

 


	3. Facade

The large metal door grated the stone floor as it opened, waking him with a jump. Nathaniel groaned. His head hurt. The night had been filled with the sounds of clashing steel and screams. He could not fathom what happened outside of his cell, but he had not expected to live through the night.

He turned his head, trying to focus his vision on the intruders who stood outside his cell, a guard and a woman.  _This must be her._ He thought focusing on her form. Whatever images he had conjured in his mind did not fit her. He had heard she was tall, ugly and a beast in armor.

He frowned somewhat disappointed. Rumors were always more interesting than fact. She looked just like any other woman, If not for the Grey Warden sigil on her armor he wouldn't have guessed who she was.

Her arms crossed as she glared down at him. Her long auburn hair fell past her shoulders as she tilted her head. Ugly, he heard on the road, an ugly woman with fiery red hair with a temper to match. But now that he saw her, he wouldn't consider her ugly; in fact she was quite pretty. The pale skin of her face was marred with a scar, but it only served to enhance her appearance. Her armor did obstruct the shape of her body; Nathaniel was curious as to what she looked like without the bulky breastplate.

No. He told himself abruptly. You know who she is and what she has done.

"I hear they had some trouble catching you." She said, her voice husky.

"I'm quite good at eluding enemies." He said frankly.

"Not good enough."

He smiled. "It would seem so. I thought because I knew the keep I could slip in and out unnoticed."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Just who are you?" She asked.

Nathaniel stood, reaching his full height, he towered over her as he did most everyone, now he looked down at her.

"I am Nathaniel Howe. You are the Hero of Ferelden. You killed my father."

Her emerald eyes burned, but only for a moment. Her eyes cut to the soldier that was in the room.

"Leave us." She demanded in a tone that prompted no argument. The soldier bowed quickly and left. Her eyes met his instantly.

"Why did you come here?" She asked.

"I wanted to kill you." He said matter of factly. It was not a lie; the thought of killing the Hero of Ferelden did cross his mind when he returned home to find he had nothing. "I wanted retribution for what you did to my family."

"Retribution?" She spat. "Your father murdered my parents, my nephew, and tried to kill me more times than I can count."

"Not for him. For us! For the rest of my family. We have served Ferelden for generations. Why do the actions of one man define an entire family?"

Something changed in her gaze. But he couldn't tell what.

"Why didn't you kill me? Lay a trap for me? Poison my stew? Didn't have the stones for it?"

She smirked. He glared at her.

"No." He said through clenched teeth. Being back in his childhood home had conjured up memories he had long forgotten. Memories of Thomas and Delilah, it seemed that every room and corridor was haunted by their presence. "I merely realized that I should not take vengeance for an act committed during war. I don't know what happened to the Couslands but I heard it was horrible and I am sorry for that, and for your losses. But it was a war, everyone lost something. I lost my brother and sister to the blight and my father to you. Now my family's home and good name have been stripped away and I am left with nothing. I cannot fault you for killing my father, what he did was reprehensible."

"Where were you when he was making these plans? Where were you when this country crumbled?" The Commander pointed her gloved finger at him accusingly. He ignored it.

"I've been a squire in the Free Marches for the past eight years. I only arrived home a month ago to discover what happened to my family."

He sighed and turned away from her. Her green eyes and adorable glare only served to disrupt his thoughts.

"My plan was to kill you. But once I was in the keep…I don't know… I realized I just wanted some of my family's things. Then I got caught. There's the story." He raised his hands in defeat and stood at the back of his cell.

The warden watched him in silence for some time. It nearly drove him insane. He could feel her lovely eyes boring into his back. He was relieved when the door to the dungeons swung open. The seneschal strode into the room.

"Ah. I see you have met our guest." He said sardonically. Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

"Yes." The warden said quietly.

"What shall we do with him then?"

Nathaniel waited patiently, avoiding their gazes. He knew he was to be hanged. What other option could there be for him? The warden wouldn't risk sparing a Howe.

"I wish to have him conscripted into the Grey Wardens."

"What?" Nathaniel and the seneschal cried in unison.

"You wish to add the prisoner and a Howe to the Grey Wardens."

"He is obviously a skilled fighter." She said never taking her eyes from Nathaniel. "We need the men."

"What makes you think that I want to be a Grey Warden?" Nathaniel asked stepping towards her.

"Would you rather be hung for a thief? Or released with nowhere to go and no family to speak of? I suppose there are some nice taverns nearby you could waste away in. You wish to have your family's name reclaimed; this is how you do it. You have to earn your good reputation back from the man who threw it in the dirt."

Nathaniel gritted his teeth. She was right. This was a chance for him to do something good, to prove that the Rendon Howe did not represent all the Howes. He needed to wipe away the sins of his father.

"You would have someone who wanted you dead serving beneath you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time." She said without missing a beat.

The seneschal sighed. "Come then, Howe." He said. "We will see if you survive the joining."

 


	4. Speechless

"The Howe is strong." The seneschal said examining the man's limp body on the floor. "He will live." He glanced up at her. "I hope you're sure about this, Commander."

Gwendolyn nodded. She was not sure about this at all, she half expected him to die in the joining as the girl had done the day before. But he lived. She closed her eyes and inhaled. These few days as the Grey Warden Commander had been entirely different than she imagined. She excused herself from the seneschal and left the hall.

Outside the breeze blew gently. The weather had improved over the dreary rain of the past few days, the sun warmed her face. Cows lowed in a nearby pasture; the sounds of the men rebuilding the stone walls filled the air.

Gwendolyn had not realized how much of this job would be catering to the nobles, listening to their petty problems and feuds, and the wardens were watching her and how she handled this position. But as she tried to focus on her duties and what was expected of her, Gwendolyn's mind wandered back to the man on the floor of the main hall.

It would have been easier if he had died. She would have seemed merciful and reasonable, and no one would have faulted her for that. But he lived and that unsettled her. Not for the obvious reasons that one might think, she was not afraid that he would kill her. She could see it in his eyes, he was not like the arl. His eyes. Grey like the stone on the castle walls, she thought them cold at first but a heat rose behind them that she couldn't comprehend. He stared at her as though he could see through her, she felt naked as he glowered down at her in his cell. But she learned long ago never to back away.

What was it about him that she couldn't get her mind off of him? She was so deep in her thoughts that she never heard the mage approach.

"Err...Commander?" Anders asked. Gwendolyn jumped and he laughed. Gwendolyn smiled, she was getting used to the light hearted mage.

"Call me Gwendolyn." She said.

"Right. Gwendolyn. The seneschal wants us to check out the cellar; apparently they think the darkspawn broke in somehow from a tunnel."

Gwendolyn sighed.

"I know." Anders said. "Darkspawn. Darkspawn. Darkspawn. Is that all you people think of?"

The windows were black from the moonless night. Gwendolyn groaned as she rubbed her aching shoulder, for days now it remained bruised and sore, the activities of her afternoon did not help. The cellars of the keep went far deeper than she could have imagined. The darkspawn still lingered there. With the help of Anders and Ohgren they managed to clear out the tunnels so that the Dwarven stonemason could block it off. Hopefully that would be the end of surprise attacks by darkspawn.

She shrugged off the heavy armor without bothering to put it on the stand. Exhaustion came quickly over her body, superseded only by hunger. Her stomach growled, she stripped her small clothes off and slipped a brown woolen dress over her head. Despite the rough texture of the fabric, it was surprisingly comfortable. She walked barefoot to the dining hall, enjoying the feel of the cool stone on her aching feet.

The room was empty, save for a lone figure at one end of the long table. She stopped. It was him. Nathaniel glanced up from the mug that sat before him and regarded her quietly. She opened her mouth to speak but a maid bustled in.

"Commander. Did you want something to eat? What can I get you?"

"Whatever you have handy. I'm not picky."

The maid bowed and hustled back into the kitchens.

"So." Nathaniel said when the girl was gone. "I hear you ventured into the cellars. They go pretty deep."

Gwendolyn nodded as she sat across from him. "We found where the darkspawn managed to get inside the keep. I have never seen cellars go so deep. Have you been down there before."

He shook his head. "When we were children, our mother forbade us. As an adult, I never had a reason." He took a drink from the mug. "Seems as though she had good reason to keep us out."

Gwendolyn half smiled. They sat in silence. He sipped from his mug; she leaned on the table and stared into the fire.

It wasn't long before she felt his stare on her, his grey eyes contemplating her. She met his gaze.

"What?" She finally asked.

"I was just thinking how you are nothing that I expected you to be."

She straightened. "What did you expect?" She asked cautiously.

He mulled his answer before he spoke.

"Transcendent." He said.

"What?" Gwendolyn couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat. He smiled.

"You refused to quit when all odds were against you. You defeated the Blight, a civil war, foiled assassins and other various murder attempts, at least that's what I have heard. You seemed almost…godlike."

"How do you feel now that you know the truth?"

"A bit disappointed. But my heart will mend in time."

Gwendolyn eyed him cautiously. "That almost sounded like a joke."

Nathaniel's stopped, his mug in midair. "Not a good one, I'll wager?"

"You seem the serious type."

He half smiled. "So do you."

"I have been called such."

Alistair would always comment on her dire mood. He would say the most foolish things to make her laugh, it usually worked. Gwendolyn felt the familiar pang in her chest. Luckily, the maid appeared with a plate and tankard for her. The girl set down a mug of honeyed ale and a plate of fish.

Gwendolyn ate quietly while Nathaniel drank.

His eyes trailed about the large hall slowly as though he were taking everything in.

"I never wanted to come back here." He said quietly. "I dreaded the day when I would have to claim the arling. At least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Gwendolyn did not know if he spoke in earnest or if this was a bitter jibe. Either way, she did not respond. He continued unbidden.

"My parents were never very warm people, as I am sure you guessed. Thomas and Delilah were closer in age while I was much older. Strange to think that I will never see them again."

A pained look crossed his face. Gwendolyn felt her chest tighten.

"I'm sorry." She said. He looked surprised by this.

"That almost seems genuine." He said coldly.

"I didn't start the bloody war or the Blight."

He set his mug down and stood. His height was dizzying. Gwendolyn stared up, feeling like a small child compared to him.

"No." He said abruptly. "But you did end it."

With those words he left. Gwendolyn was alone.


End file.
